


Hot Buttered Popcorn

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 01:14:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11346915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Midnight movie, Mulder, One-armed Krycek





	Hot Buttered Popcorn

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Hot Buttered Popcorn by Djinn

Slashx: 6 July 1998  
ArchiveX: 13 July 1998  
Hot Buttered Popcorn  
M/K, PWP, NC-17  
Midnight movie, Mulder, One-armed Krycek (sorry, Kai <g>)  
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not now. Not ever. The wretched condition of this story is my fault and mine alone.

* * *

Hot Buttered Popcorn  
by Djinn

It was the sheen of butter around eminently kissable lips which drew Mulder's gaze to the man seated alone in the middle left side of the nearly deserted theater. Fox grinned, there could definitely be some interesting pick-up lines to fit that situation. He hadn't planned to pick someone up, just to watch Charlton Heston overact amidst and devour massive amounts of popcorn. That's what was so great about these midnight movies. You got to watch a film that was definitely not on any critic's A list with fellow insomniacs. And it was just so normal. Damned if he couldn't use a little normal in his life. Mulder paused before taking a seat, considering the likelihood of a quickie with the man he'd just glimpsed. 

Then the guy in the middle row left turned his head a little more, giving Mulder a good view of his profile. A profile which set wrongly on a murderer, traitor, coward, and liar. It was a face stolen from a choirboy, innocent until you knew the evil that lurked beneath.

Fox swallowed a curse. Standing halfway down a row he was already getting hisses of 'sit down!' from a couple of theater patrons behind him. He wanted to go over and beat the shit out of Krycek, wanted to force him to answer the questions that crawled up his gullet like bile. Instead he sat down and balanced his bucket of popcorn on his lap, setting his large drink down on the floor. He glared at the nape of Krycek's neck, the dark hair that barely brushed the collar of the leather jacket. He watched, his own appetite gone, as Krycek brought a handful of popcorn to his mouth and held it there, using lips and tongue to extract a kernel at a time. It was so hypnotic that Mulder didn't notice the man that sidled down Krycek's row to sit one seat away from him.

A contact. Mulder's heart raced, if he could find out what this meeting was about, he might be able to find out who had sent Krycek to his apartment and the real reason behind it. The man leaned over to talk to Krycek, and Mulder saw the ratbastard's lips move in his reply. Damn, he was too far away. Carefully, Mulder stood and walked to sit a few rows behind Krycek and his companion. He sat down in time to hear Krycek raise his voice.

"I said no, and I mean no. Now get lost, creep!" 

Mulder had to admire Krycek's style. It was a way to break off contact without raising undue suspicion. The man got up hurriedly and left the theater. Mulder was tempted to follow the man, but at that moment Krycek turned his head, scanning the slight scattering of patrons and caught Mulder's eye. 

Mulder held the gaze until Krycek laughed and turned back around. Setting his teeth, Mulder rose and made his way to the other man. Taking the seat just recently vacated by Krycek's contact, Mulder found that he was still hauling the bucket of popcorn around. Feeling slightly foolish, he balanced it precariously on the seat between them.

"Krycek."

"Mulder."

"Don't tell me you're a sci-fi fan, because I won't believe it."

Krycek looked at him and shrugged. It looked strange, off-balance. Mulder couldn't remember seeing Krycek ungraceful before.

"So what was that little meeting about? Plotting to blow up the theater?" Mulder spoke a little too loudly and was hushed by the nearest person seated to them, although he was at least five rows away.

"Mulder," Krycek's whisper was weary. "You wouldn't be interested."

"Try me."

Brows raised, Krycek's lips quivered with a private joke. "Believe me, Mulder. I'm just here to watch the movie."

"Bullshit." Mulder could see a muscle clench in Krycek's jaw as he gritted his teeth. He could also see specks of salt dotting the butter that generously coated Krycek's lips.

"I want to know what he was doing here."

"You want to know -. Dammit Mulder!" Krycek's jaw worked again, and then Mulder saw his chest swell as the other man took a deep breath. "Okay, tovarisch. You want what he was here for? You want what he wanted?" A vicious undertone colored Krycek's words. "Come over here. I can't tell you from over there."

Mouth suddenly dry, Mulder moved the bucket of popcorn to the other side and eased into the seat next to Krycek's.

"No tricks, Krycek."

Krycek bit off a laugh. "I'll give you exactly what he wanted. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Ready?" 

Mulder jerked impatiently. "C'mon Krycek."

"Closer, then."

Mulder leaned toward the other man, smelling the butter on his breath as Krycek opened his mouth, the slight tickle of exhaled air near his ear.

Krycek traced the shell of Mulder's ear with a flick of his tongue.

Mulder tried to pull away, but the arm Krycek had around the back of his seat clamped down, holding him still. 

"Krycek! Get off me!"

With an agile twist, Krycek was out of his seat and straddling Mulder's legs. To a chorus of 'shhhhs' from around the theater, Krycek clenched a fist in Mulder's hair, jerked his head back, and fastened his mouth to the older man's, smothering further protestations. He leaned in, pressing his body to Mulder's. His tongue ruthlessly plundered Mulder's mouth, ignoring the pushing and pummeling of hands against his back and sides.

Mulder grabbed at Krycek's shoulders, trying to fight him off, and disconnected his left arm. Alex pulled his head back with a hiss. "Dammit, Mulder!" 

"Wha-?"

Alex leaned forward and nipped Mulder on the chin. "Bastard." He tightened his grip in Mulder's hair painfully. 

"What happened to your - oh, god, Tunguska." Mulder stopped fighting for a moment, hands resting on Krycek's sides. 

Alex pressed his advantage, and kissed the momentarily stunned Mulder, plumbing the nonresisting mouth, exploring, tasting.

And Mulder tentatively responded, tasting Krycek in turn, the hot buttered mouth on his. Closing his eyes, he released the tension in his body and felt the hand in his hair relax in turn. Felt the mouth move off his, and butter-slick, move across his face. Involuntarily, he moaned, a soft cry that seemed to have been lodged in his throat for years. He arched his hips up and felt the vise of Alex's legs relax.

"Why, Mulder, I never -" There was a dry mockery in Krycek's voice and Mulder refused to open his eyes, not wanting to see the mockery in the green eyes of his enemy. His fantasy.

"Shut up. Just shut the fuck up." Mulder blindly sought Krycek's mouth again, and it was there, hot and eager against his. He pulled up Krycek's t-shirt under the leather jacket, feeling the smooth skin at the waist of his jeans, dipping below to caress the small of his back. Mulder brought his right hand up under the short, kneading the straining muscles of side and shoulder. 

Krycek jerked slightly, his body alert, as Mulder's hand ran over the straps that were holding on the prosthesis before it had been jerked at by Mulder's struggles. He pulled away as Mulder touched the hack scars made by the cruel amputation, which even consequent surgery had only lessened, not erased.

"Mulder." The name as an exhalation of breath.

Fox kept his eyes closed. "Shhhh. Just let me, let me." He felt Krycek ruffle his hair, sigh. 

"That's my line." Faint laugh riding on the whisper, and Mulder just smiled until he felt a tongue tease his lips open and he gave himself up to the kiss. Krycek shifted his leg, lifting slightly so that he could position it between Mulder's. The heat centered at the hard arousals that pressed together and spread upwards. The unyielding arms of the seat constricted their sideways movements, forcing them to arch and rub against each other. 

Mulder felt his body flush, following the path of Krycek's questing hand as it felt his abdomen and chest. Krycek pulled his hand free and fumbled at the hem of Mulder's shirt, pushing it up and over his pectorals. Bending his head he licked at a nipple, causing Mulder to hiss and arch his body to meet the teasing mouth. Easing down, Krycek felt Mulder spread his legs, and he slid to kneel between them, kissing his way down the other man's body.

Ignoring the questionable cleanliness of the theater floor, Krycek nuzzled the hard bulge under Mulder's jeans. He kissed the length, then finding the tip, sucked on it, rewarded by a soft cry and an spasmodic shudder from the other man. Surveying Mulder, shirt rucked up above his nipples, legs splayed wide, Krycek smiled ironically. Who would have ever thought? Hell, who here was thinking, anyway? He busied his fingers with the fastening of the jeans. It was awkward and slow going, one-handed, but he managed.

"You're going to have to help me here," and Mulder obeyed, lifting his hips and easing jeans and boxers down to his thighs. The cock rose almost against Mulder's belly, pre-cum glistening on the tip. Krycek licked at it, running his tongue down the big vein underneath, swirling around the base, then moving down to the trembling balls. Mulder moaned softly and slid farther down in the seat, angling himself so that Krycek could have full access.

Krycek pulled the jeans and shorts down to Mulder's ankles, and repositioned himself, leaning between the spread knees. Not the most comfortable position, but the stifled scream when he took the head of Mulder's cock in his mouth ameliorated that factor. Looking up he could see that Mulder had flung his head back, his chest heaving with pants. Taking more of the hard length into his mouth, he could feel it swell against his palate. 

He barely had time to suck once, twice, when Mulder came, arching his body,thrusting his cock deeper into Krycek's mouth, and stifling a scream against his forearm. Krycek swallowed frantically as Mulder pulsed cum into his mouth. There were a few catcalls, but most of the people in that seedy theater at that time of the night were jaded, and none were unduly upset.

Krycek wasn't too happy, though. He'd hoped for a little more from Fox Mulder, and from the way the other man just lay there in the seat, he didn't think he was going to get it.

"Mulder." He grabbed Mulder's boxers and leaned down, wiping his mouth on the material. "Mulder."

"Mmmmmm." The man looked practically comatose. "Um, sorry. Iss been a while." And he sounded drunk.

"Son of a bitch." Krycek levered himself up to sit beside the satiated man, inadvertently knocking over the bucket of popcorn that Mulder had left in the seat. "Shit."

"Get your hands off me, you stinking ape!"

Krycek glanced at the screen, noting the outrage and fury on the gorilla's face.

"I'm with you, fella." He turned to look at Mulder, put a desultory hand on the softening cock and stroked it, drawing another shudder from the man.

"Ahhhhhhh."

"I give up." Krycek shook his head. Next time, my turn. He brushed the accumulated debris from the knees of his jeans, and ignoring the ache in his own groin, stepped over Mulder's legs to exit the theater.

Before he walked out, though, he stopped to look back at his erstwhile partner. Mulder's head was still thrown back on the seat, eyes closed, and Krycek was surprised by an urge to smile. To walk back and kiss that mouth again. 

Next time.

\-------------------

Okay, I know, I know. Mulder can hold back forever, and he would never, ever, leave Krycek, um, hanging like that. Still, it *was* late, and he *was* tired. 

Comments welcomed by   
 


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